Work that is autoethnographic in nature, it started with found, via social media, images that set off memories, or rather shards of fractured past moments. Overtime becoming essays, always linked to the judo and his childhood, a 2-to-3-year period starting as he became a teenager, ‘The Ambler Gambler’ and ‘Tokyo Nights’, which in turn led to a triptych of 3 new works for each essay.
At the start is the ‘Amber Gambler’ series, 15 years old and a seemingly unending series of podium finishes at every level pushing judo to the fore of all thoughts, a summer spent in Brixton with a family of 3 brothers, he and the youngest of whom spending most of their evenings at clubs across the city when not jumping the barriers on the underground in pursuit of excitement away from the mat.
The Amber Gambler
Three brothers living under the same roof, Balkan born, parents dead, the oldest now the head of the family, he married with a young family of his own, the youngest, Daniel, not yet 15, all sharing a tall old house in Brixton, a nest of bedsits and one-time former squat, a coin fed meter in every room. The middle brother, the biker, shoulder length dark hair, army surplus jacket, hoody, jeans, and Dr Martins, Marlborough packet and a full ashtray at his elbow; all confidence, good looks and quick of temper, raised voices and the clash of expectations often run through this house.
“That’s him that is, that’s his handle, ear him?” Daniel and I slouched on the floor, a pile of girly mags strewn around the CB radio, “he’s looking for a race he is, they’re going to meet at the cruise first then sort out where”, “what’s the cruise, and why not say where now?” says I “Don’t want the pigs sticking in their snouts, does they, hey, let’s swing by after the comp?” And so, judo bags atop shoulders, and jumping the barriers on the underground across town we head from the palace to Chelsea bridge. Darting in and out of the crowds we find a spot mid-bridge, the smells from the burger van making me wish I’d not fed the Space Invaders machine so much earlier, the atmosphere heightened by the sounds and smells of the custom cars. “Ear, they come, look, look!” I strain to look, climbing the rail to get a better view, and then I see them, motorbikes weaving at speed between the parade. “They throws bleach down to make more smoke” offers Daniel; the first bike locks his front wheel, the rear now spinning at ever increasing speed, and with smoke bellowing he begins to pirouette on the spot balancing on outspread legs, before tearing off, wheelie popped, and a perfect doughnut his parting gift. A second follows, a third, the crowds loving it the police and custom drivers not so much, I fear. “Come on or we’ll miss the fun” he shouts over his shoulder, bag already slung across the other as he darts bent low through the crowd, and so bag grasped to my chest I follow. 2 cold hours follow loitering around the city’s ring roads, no bikes and just the slow drive-bys of polices cars by the way of company before that last tube back to Brixton.
I didn’t really see much more of Daniel again after that summer, but a few years later I heard that the middle brother was doing quite a stretch thanks to an attempted armed robbery at a petrol station, I don’t recall his name, just his handle, the ‘Amber Gambler’.
Technical Details
The Amber Gambler series are original artworks by Brent Meheux, started on the iPad using an Apple Pen, via Procreate and then finished in Adobe Photoshop on the iMac. Each of the trio is part of a limited edition of 15 Giclée prints on Hahnemühle Photo Rag 308 paper in A2 format, signed, embossed and numbered by the artist.
Please contact me directly for availability and prices.